Seawolf Mask of Command (30 page)

But as he listened to the Supreme Leader speak, “the Armistice between the North and South is concluded. The time to unite the Korean peoples is now…” Cheong-In felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Fear was something everyone in the DPRK lived with. Fear of starvation. Fear of the secret police. Fear of freezing to death. Since joining the army, Cheong-In had only feared one of these. But now, he feared the seemingly unstoppable rush to destruction.

The DPRK was going to war. There could be no doubt.

Sound Room, USS Seawolf

K
risten reported to the sonar shack located just forward of the main control room. There were two spaces used by the sonar personnel. The sound room, or simply the shack, was used by the operators themselves to analyze and identify contacts. The sonar cabinet space was filled with processing equipment supporting the entire sonar suite and was the haven of the sonar technicians.

The shack was a claustrophobic room filled with computers, sonar analyzers, and electronics squeezed into every conceivable space. The only light was cast by a series of displays, called “stacks” on the left side as she entered. There were a total of three “stacks,” each with two displays giving sonar information. In the far corner was also a spectrum analyzer. Four sonarmen were seated in front of this row of computers and monitors. Behind them, was the shift supervisor, Petty Officer Second Class Fabrini. Kristen had met Fabrini a few days earlier when she’d been on a treadmill working out. Fabrini had been accepted to the next year’s Academy class so worked out routinely to get in shape.

Beside Fabrini was the rotund Senior Chief Petty Officer Carl Miller. No one knew just how old the Chief was, but he sported an impressive belly that looked ready at any moment to send the buttons of his coveralls shooting across the small room like bullets.

“There you are,” Miller greeted her wiping sweat off his bald pate and shifting slightly to make room for her in the cramped space. “Welcome to the dark side, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Senior Chief,” she replied, nodding politely to Fabrini when he gave her a slight wave of his hand in greeting.

“Things are pretty quiet, right now,” Miller explained. “Not that we’d have been able to hear anything during the last few days racing across the Pacific.” When going as fast as the
Seawolf
had during her sprint across the Pacific, the submarine’s power plant and propulsor made so much noise the passive sonar arrays became virtually useless.

“I’m just here to lend a hand with the integration problem you’re having, Senior Chief,” she replied. “And maybe start my sonar rotation.”

Kristen would never be a sonarman; officers didn’t need to be. But she needed to become familiar with the sonar spaces as well as all the other departments on board as part of her qualification process. As a Nub, she would spend time in every space on the sub eventually.

“This way,” Miller said and directed her back out into the passageway and into the equally crowded cabinet room. “The boys from Nav Systems insisted on this upgrade when we were in port,” he explained and directed her attention to the new equipment. “Too bad the shitheads didn’t make sure it worked first.”

Kristen nodded, understanding the complexities of combining multiple systems and trying to get them to interface properly. As a systems engineer, it was her business to recognize and fix these problems. “Maybe I can give it a shot.”

Miller blanched at the idea of her poking around in his sonar equipment. “Well, my sonar techs have been beating their brains out for three days, and every time they think they got it licked, something else goes on the fritz. They’re at chow right now, but should be back soon.”

“If you don’t mind,” she replied, “I’ll go ahead and get started.”

Miller clearly wasn’t comfortable with a Nub nosing around in his domain. “I’d prefer if you waited, ma’am,” he said politely.

Kristen walked in behind a bank of consoles, her eyes going over the rear of the various processors, filters, and analyzers. She’d spent nearly a year using nearly identical equipment at Pearl Harbor to figure out how to optimize it for tracking the latest Chinese submarines. Beagler had picked her for the job, thinking it would keep her busy and out of the way, having never expected her to finish. Plus, the fact she’d taken four years of Mandarin Chinese while at the Naval Academy made her a logical choice for the Admiral, since part of her job had been to make sense out of some of the intelligence the Navy had collected regarding Chinese submarine quieting technology.

“You’re having trouble with the Active Transient Cabinets, aren’t you?” she asked as she leaned down and looked at the rear of the cabinets, studying the miles of cables connecting everything together.

“Yeah,” he replied and waddled around the row of cabinets to watch her. “Howdya know?”

“I see a couple of warning lights flashing back here,” she explained as she reached into the rear of a cabinet, gripped a thick cable, and started unscrewing it from the back of a computer.

“Hey, don’t be messing around with that,” he warned. “It took the techs days to get this all wired.”

Kristen looked into the first cable socket after removing it, blew into it to remove any dust, and then reinserted it. “Not to worry, Senior Chief,” she offered as she screwed it back in. “I won’t break anything,” she replied and then reached in and removed another cable.

“Listen, Lieutenant, like I said, when my boys—”

“Here’s the problem,” she answered and twisted the end of the cable to show Miller the very end where it inserted into the rear of a computer. “Whoever put this in wasn’t careful and damaged the connector pins. This connection has to be replaced.”

“Yeah, right,” Miller replied skeptically but leaned down and looked into the socket where the damaged pins were clearly visible. “Hmmm,” he mused thoughtfully as he removed his glasses from his pocket and slipped them on to get a closer look. “And you think this is the problem?”

“It’s certainly one of them,” she confirmed and motioned toward the rest of the equipment. “I should know more in about an hour after I’ve had a chance to go over everything.” Kristen was wise enough to know this one cable wasn’t the entire problem, but it was a good start.

“Where did you learn about sonar systems?”

“The Navy didn’t know what to do with me after I finished the Submarine Basic Course, so I spent some time in Corpus and then another year in Hawaii playing with similar equipment,” she answered vaguely. In fact, while in Hawaii, she’d worked with an almost identical set of equipment. “Where are the schematics for the system?”

Kristen spent the balance of her six-hour training cycle in the cabinet room with a handful of technicians. They were finally able to track down the last problem and run a successful systems check of the entire sonar suite before she was scheduled to begin her next rest period. Miller stuck around, poking his head in periodically and when the final test showed the problems were all gone he gave her an appreciative—and slightly surprised—smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lieutenant,” he said in thanks. “Maybe I’ll have Fabrini let you put the ears on so you can listen to some whales.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Senior Chief,” she agreed. But at the moment, she was only looking forward to a shower, some food, and then some badly needed sleep.

But, before she reached her cabin, she ran into Ski.

“How did that problem in sonar work out, Lieutenant?” he asked. Normally when they passed one another in a passageway, he ignored her, and Kristen realized the fact he was speaking to her couldn’t be a good thing.

“It’s all fixed, sir.” She felt too worn out to deal with him at the moment.

“Good,” Ski glanced at his watch. “The next watch begins in forty minutes,” he informed her with a smug grin. They were alone in the passageway, and Kristen wondered if he’d be acting like such an ass if Graves or the captain were around. “You’ve just enough time to get something to eat.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” she replied, doing her best to at least appear like it was the best news she’d ever received, so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing how tired she was. Kristen paused by her makeshift cabin and then headed for the captain’s cabin, hoping he wouldn’t be there. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of using his private bathroom, even though it made more sense than inconveniencing a dozen other officers by using the single officers’ head. Thus far, she’d been to his cabin a couple of dozen times and had yet to run into him, as he’d predicted. She arrived as Graves was exiting the cabin.

“It’s all yours, Lieutenant,” he greeted her as he ducked his head and stepped out into the passageway. “The skipper’s in the radio room.”

“Another eyes-only message, sir?” Kristen asked.

“Either that or the latest box scores,” Graves replied and returned to his own cabin.

Kristen entered the tiny bathroom. The first time she’d been in it, she’d been a bit surprised at how clean it was. Like the captain’s cabin, there was nothing in his private head that made it look like he’d ever even been in there. Not so much as a single hair was in the sink.

After a quick shower, Kristen took a minute to wipe everything down with a spare towel, determined to leave the bathroom the same way she found it. As she stepped from the head, she bumped into Brodie as he entered into his cabin, and he seemed as startled as her at first.

“Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant,” he offered as he stepped aside to allow her to pass.

Kristen felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, which she knew was silly of her, and this caused her to blush even more. “Excuse me, Captain,” she replied and slipped by him, wanting to vacate his cabin as quickly and as quietly as possible.

“Yes, of course,” he responded, giving her no reason to feel uncomfortable.

Whereas some of the officers and men clearly looked at her from time to time with less than professional eyes, he’d always behaved appropriately. The long motorcycle ride they’d gone on before leaving Bremerton seemed like a dream. He never mentioned it, nor made any indication he even remembered it. Instead, he treated her with the same professionalism and objectivity he treated all of his officers and men. It was exactly what she’d always wanted from her superior officer.

“Chief Miller says you were able to run down those Gremlins,” he said as she stepped toward the open door.

Kristen paused, turning back toward him. “It was just some minor glitches, sir. When the equipment was installed, I think they rushed it a bit, but everything looks okay now.”

Brodie gave her a weary smile. “Well, Miller was impressed with you, and that’s saying a lot. Miller doesn’t think officers have much business in sonar.”

Kristen smiled knowingly. “I kinda got that impression myself, sir.”

He nodded and stifled another yawn.

Normally, outside of the cabin, he always looked fresh, in control. A rock. But now that he was here—in his inner sanctum—the mask of command he kept in place for the crew had slipped a little. Once more he was no longer just her captain. He’d once again become a man, with all the failings, weakness, and desires of any other human being.

“Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” she asked and immediately regretted it. She was an officer, not a servant.

“I told Chief Miller to expect you back in sonar a few hours every day.”

Kristen wasn’t supposed to spend too much time in any single space. Instead, she was supposed to be studying the entire vessels. But she could hardly question his decision. “As you wish, Captain.”

He watched her for a moment, his sharp eyes apparently recognizing her curiosity. “If you have a question, Lieutenant, I told you my door’s always open.”

She considered his orders and asked, “Why do you want me to spend so much time in sonar?”

“Why do you think?”

Kristen’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, her left hand absent mindedly playing with a lock of wet hair draped across her shoulder. “You’ve seen my report on optimizing the BQQ-10 processor for the latest Chinese submarines, haven’t you sir?” The report, as far as she knew, was still somewhere between COMSUBPAC and the Pentagon and hadn’t been released to the operational forces.

He didn’t answer her directly; instead she saw a playful smile cross the boyish face. “What report?”

Kristen had her answer and nodded in understanding. Beagler had leaked Brodie a copy of the report prior to her coming on board. She wondered how much more he knew about her. He didn’t seem to be the kind of man who left things such as ship’s personnel to chance.

“Good night, Captain.”

“Good night, Lieutenant.”